


Grow

by lotusskies



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 13:31:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8846965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotusskies/pseuds/lotusskies
Summary: "No matter what, you'll always be my tomato."





	

For Michael Schumacher, spring had come too soon. Winter had been a merciful break to the seemingly never-ending work on the farm, but the three months of ice and snow had passed all too quickly, and already the land around him was beginning to show the first signs of life.

Nature was stuck in a cycle; icy mornings followed by balmy afternoons. The thick layer of frost that coated everything with a diamond sheen would quickly melt with the rising sun, leaving the grass bright and damp underfoot. Jumpers would be  hurriedly donned when dressing only to be peeled from sticky bodies hours later.

Michael hated it. Farming was a livelihood replete with uncertainty; why did the weather have to mirror that? He hated being a farmer as well. All his childhood he had dreamed of being a racing driver but here he was, stuck toiling from dawn to dusk at a list of jobs that seemed never ending. Driving a tractor didn't quite measure up to flying round a track at 300kmph.

Shaking his head, he pulled himself from his thoughts and slowly sat up, blinking in the faint morning light. Swinging himself around, he gingerly placed his feet on the wood floor, shivering involuntarily at the contact with the frigid boards. With goosebumps rapidly forming on his arms, he rushed through his morning routine robotically, until next thing he knew he was hit by the crisp morning air outside.

The mist had yet to rise as he trudged across the field, the frost-coated grass crunching with every step. His breathed fanned out before him like smoke, before being whipped away by the brisk breeze. It smelt cold; there were no hints of the coming sun. With fumbling fingers stiffened by the cold he clumsily unlocked the door of the outhouse and slipped inside, hurriedly shutting it behind him.

Standing in the middle of the room, Michael stared up at the shelves filled with innumerable boxes that covered three of the four walls. Picking his way through yet more boxes stacked in haphazard piles on the floor, he located the one he wanted. Brushing the thick layer of dust from the top, he heaved it onto a rickety table tucked away in a corner, but not before removing another stack of boxes from on top.

Deciding against sitting, he opened the box and removed a thick wedge of files from within. He knew that these files contained reams and reams of information concerning all the ins and outs of farming: crop production, crop sales, inventories; more data than he knew that to do with.

He stared at it all bleakly. How on earth was he supposed to make all of this make sense? It had been so much easier when Rubens had been here; he had always handled the paperwork. The farm was steadily losing money though, and eventually Rubens regretfully handed in his resignation. Now Michael was the sole worker on the farm, and spent most days dreaming of selling it and moving to the city. But no one would buy it, and instead he was left trapped in a prison cell of rolling fields.

Half-heartedly shuffling through the papers, a flash of colour caught his eye. Slipped in between the bills and tax returns was a flyer, the headline reading "ANNUAL COUNTY FAIR". His curiosity mildly piqued, he pulled it out for closer inspection.

"Stalls of all kinds: fruits, vegetables and everything in between. Bring your best and eat the rest. Prizes to be won for every category. Come along 3rd November" He read aloud to the empty room.

"Well, why not?" He thought to himself. "I've got nothing better to aim for this year".

Feeling invigorated, he carelessly repacking the box he had emptied, already mulling over the challenge ahead of him.

"Tomatoes," he decided. "Tomatoes are easy to grow. I'm going to grow the greatest tomato the world has ever seen."


End file.
